It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.....

Except that it isn't. There is no snow. No Christmas lights. No family. No stockings. No tree - although I did decorate the tropical plant in my apartment.

This is my first Christmas away from home - I honestly never thought I would be able to do it. I love Christmas more than anything. Everything about it. I have been going through very distinct phases in dealing with this. At first I was surprisingly okay. I was sad but grateful for all that I have here and I think because the usual reminders that Christmas is coming weren't here it was easy not to think about it. But then as it got closer and I realized that Christmas really was going to come without me it was much harder. I wallowed in self pity for awhile mourning all the things that I was missing out on. Coming to terms with the fact that there would be no decorating the tree with my mom (no squint test this year), no Christmas baking, no teasing my mom about her Christmas bathroom (complete with Christmas toilet seat, shower curtain, toilet paper and soap), no sitting by the tree listening to Christmas music for hours, no wrapping presents with my mom on Christmas Eve, no sitting at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning with my brothers until Mom says that we can finally come down, no wishing Merry Christmas to strangers I pass on the street, no Christmas chaos when my parents' house fills with love and my whole family comesover, no talking to my little cousins about Santa and watching their eyes light up with excitement, no living room strewn with crumpled wrapping paper, no pulling Christmas crackers at the count of three with the whole table and the wearing of the lovely paper crowns, no walks through the snow with the dogs. I won't feel that magical feeling that is so evident at this time of year. Not this year. I cried. I considered buying a last minute ticket....but here I am. Spending Christmas alone - or rather, with the fish.

But I have a new outlook - or rather, I am trying to have a new outlook. The reason I am hurting so much is because I have had 28 wonderful Christmases. How lucky! My mom always does everything she can to make it special and my grandma always did the same. I also have a wonderful large family that all comes together to celebrate. I will have all this again. Many have never had one Christmas surrounded by the love that I know so it is easy for them to be away. But better to be heartbroken about missing something that you are so so lucky to have - Merry Christmas to my wonderful family. I am thinking of you.

"I'll be home for Christmas.....if only in my dreams."

"Darling it's better down where it's wetter, take it from me!"

I hope that you are all singing along with Sebastian and friends in your head...But really this little crab was on to something.

A few weeks ago we had a lovely day to start off a wonderful vacation. It was a week off for Hajj, the pilgrimage that Muslims make annually to Mecca. Elements of the Hajj trace back to the time of Abraham, around 2000 BCE. It is believed that the Abraham was ordered by God to leave his wife Hagar and infant son Ishmael alone in the desert. While he was gone, the child became thirsty, and Hagar ran back and forth seven times between the mountains searching for water for her son. Miraculously water sprang forth,a source of water that still runs today and is called the Well of Zamzam.We replicated the whole thing for the kids. We all wore traditional Hajj clothing (even I wore all white and a hijab!). The day started off with an assembly - the highlight was my students performing a song that was half in English and half in Arabic...I am pretty sure it took me longer to learn than it took me to teach them but in the end it was fantastic. I was standing in front of them mouthing the words and doing the actions, beaming with pride at their little faces. Then we were all given our plane tickets and passports, both personalized with our names. They did a wonderful job and the kids were very excited. The bus picked us up and took us to the airport, where our passports were taken and stamped and then off to board the plane, made by the art

teachers - so realistic and the kids could step in and everything! The events that take place at Hajj were also recreated beautifully from the seven circuits around the Kabaa while saying "In the name of God, God is Great, God is Great, God is Great and praise be to God" in unison - of course it sounds a little different in Arabic to mountains that Muslims walk back and forth between to signfy Haga's frantic search for water to the areas where the pilgrims sit to pray to the stones that are thrown to signify their defiance of the Devil. This is done to symbolize the trials experienced by Abraham while he was going to sacrifice his son as demanded by Allah. The Devil challenged him three times, and teach time Abraham refused. A lovely day. I have so many great pictures - if this wasn't the internet I would put them up...anyway - we had a great time.

And then I was off for a week. I went to Dahab, on the Red Sea and fell in love with the place. It was perfect. I would wakeup to watch the sunrise on the water, curled up with my newfriend (read super sweet and friendly stray dog that would meet me every morning) then spent my days getting my scuba diving certification and my nights on the water. Imagine a waterfront of all restaurants where you leave your shoes at the door, sit on cushions on

an all blanketed floor, with twinkle lights and candles. At one point, listening to Jack Johnson sing about how " livin ain't as hard as it seems" I watched a sting ray swim by. It is true: living isn't as hard as it seems. The place put me in a trance, the week was like a dream. I have since been back several times.

I am also completely addicted to diving now....I go every chance I get. It is a totally different world - one that I am so grateful to be able to experience. Life is slow and peaceful under the water. Everything is new and remarkable. It is like underwater yoga...but you are admiring fish and coral that look as though they were painted and marveling at the way these organisms work together to create this untouched world. It is breathtaking. Last weekend I went w

reck diving which was also amazing. Swimming through sunken ships and imagining what they once were and seeing the way they have now become a part of the underwater life - with things growing on them and living in them.

I am one lucky girl...

The Little Ones

I know it has been awhile - I know because my mom is quick to tell me when I have gone too long without a post. I also know that I have not yet told you about my little ones - I know this also because of my mother....I love you Mom. And in fact, she is right. The last a lot of you have heard about work was my first day, which, in 10 words or less, began with the realization that most of my kids could not understand a word I was saying, as I stared out at 17 confused little faces- and ended with a clock falling off the wall and shattering glass everywhere, a lost child and a not yet organized bus system, a parent telling me that her child had a bad day, my principal reminding me that I am not allowed to speak to parents right as they all lined up to talk to me and then a colleague shutting my finger in my classroom door, which seemed to grant me the permission to burst into tears as I locked up my classroom and walked to the bus, trying to no avail to hide the fact that I am a total basketcase. And that is literally just a report of the first and last 10 minutes of the day. But all this was exactly 48 school days ago ( I know not because I am personally counting the days...but because my students and I are of course counting down to our 100 days of school party). All that is just a vague memory that makes me laugh now.

I have heard it said "Never underestimate the vital importance of finding early in life the work that for you is play." How true this is. And how lucky I am. For my work...it is my play. Of course we all have days and of course there are parts of my job that I don't love but the day to day experience of teaching is a joy. My kids are wonderful. Every day they say something to make me smile. As I write this I remember teaching senses and asking what we do with a flower and having little Jasmin raise her hand as politely as can be and state in her sweet way that she would give it to her mom. I think of Ali who learned to read a book where each page says "It is time to... (eat, play, etc.) until the last page when "it is time to hug". He must have read that book to me a hundred times anxiously waiting for the last page where we hug and giggle at how clever we are. I remember all the coaxing I had to do week after week in the library to get him to choose a new book. I remember teaching community helpers and asking what we say thank you to firefighters for and feeling my heart swell as my littlest one tells me that we thank them because "they are so busy". I remember teaching living and nonliving things and asking how we know that a turtle is living and Reem stating with all the confidence in the world that "we know it is living because Allah (God) made him". I remember reading Dr. Seuss' The Lorax aloud and discussing the environmental impact of The Onceler who is cutting down all the trees when Ali stands up and screams "he is a bad man!" with his hands on his hips for added emphasis. Ali then went on to explain that he should lose a house point (our school uses the house system...think Harry Potter). I remember asking students to pick out words that they recognized on the morning message and one picking out PROUD. A challenging word, and so I asked her how she knew this one. She replied, looking at me like as if I had just asked the most ridiculous question she had ever heard "because you always say you are proud of us" and I guess I do. I always am proud of them. My heart skips a beat when they say something that I taught them or when I see them do or say something they picked up from me - like when little Youssef exclaims (always without raising his hand and always in the most excited little voice) "oh that's a TRICKY word Miss!!" to any word that is not phonetic. I especially love watching them stretch out words and listening for the sounds when they are writing. It is one of my little daily pleasures. My principal told me a little while ago that there are now all these little Melissas running around using hand gestures and speaking English (they have for the most part picked up the language like magic...they amaze me each and every day). Sometimes I catch a glimpse of this and I can't help but grin.

I am away from the supports in my life - my family, my friends, my dogs. And while I have people at the school that I would call friends, who would help me if I needed anything, the intimacy and comfort of these relationships from home is something that I often miss. I lead a very solitary life here (not counting my days which are filled with laughter and chatter and "she pushed me"s, "she made a mean face"s, "she said that she was not my friend anymore" s) and while that grants me the time to dedicate to work and carries with it a lot of really lovely things it can also be lonely. Sometimes I feel this and then I go into school the next day and, like every day I am greeted by Zeina (and whoever else is with her - but always always Zeina) who runs to meet me when I get off the bus, eager to give me a hug, help me carry whatever it is I happen to be lugging in on that particular day and to tell me about something she did the night before or something that she made for me while we walk to class together. And then they fill my whole day with love: like yesterday when we were thinking of ways to put our new high frequency words in sentences and Waleed, who spoke virtually no English at the beginning of the year and after meeting me asked his mom how he was going to understand - his teacher only speaks English! - said (for the word 'little'), "When I was little I did not see Ms. Melissa but now that I am big I do and I love her". They make all the difference.

School is pretty much my life. I am my own ESL and remedial teacher (by my own choice - we don't have these supports so I pull these students out and teach them during my planning periods..not ideal for them but the best I can do), I eat lunch with my kids (because it is my chance to talk to them without having to remind them to raise their hand or focus on what we are doing and also because I can make sure they are actually eating lunch and not just eating their snacks and running to the playground). And then I go home where I plan lessons, make math games, cut out endless bristol board templates and such - all tedious endeavors which I happen to also love.

I am writing this on a Friday evening (weekends are Friday and Saturday here) and while I needed the day off to of of course work on long term plans and a fun addition game with egg cartons and millions of tiny hand cut out circles with hand written numbers on them (among other classroom related activities) I am also starting to wonder how my grade one friends are and while I am thankful that tomorrow is a day off I am also starting to look forward to stepping in the building to a sprinting little Zeina and hearing their chorus of "Good Morning Ms. Melissa" on Sunday morning.